Safe
by Asp Pentacle97
Summary: Parker, missing Sophie, seeks refuge with Eliot. Parker/Eliot friendship, mostly.


**A/N:** Hello all, this is just a short little thing I wrote in about three hours. It's rated for minor sexual connotations and three swear words. It's my first Leverage fic, so please excuse any character inaccuracies. I tried very hard to get them right, but Parker was especially difficult. So anyways, please enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Leverage. If I did, I would be snogging Eliot, not writing about him.

Eliot should have known that something was up when Parker tried to sit next to him on the couch during the briefing. But at that moment all he had been worried about was Hardison (who clearly had a massive crush on the blonde thief) thinking that there was something going on between Parker and himself. And then his mind was swamped with trying to keep Hardison's fool ass safe while he tried, and miserably failed, to be a grifter.

So really, Eliot shouldn't have been surprised to hear a noise outside his window that night. He was in bed, clad only in the almost nonexistent black boxers he slept in, when he heard the faint tap on the glass. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but Eliot wasn't most people. Keeping his body completely calm and relaxed, he slowly slid his hand under his pillow, gripping the hilt of the knife hidden there, waiting for the trespasser to make his mover and enter the room.

"Eliot! Eliot, wake up!" hiss the intruder. Eliot's eyes jerked open in shock. He knew that voice, and there was only one person in the world who could have come in that silently and swiftly.

"Parker, what the hell are you doing here?" Eliot asked, sitting up and looking at the pixie-like thief. "Is someone hurt? Did one of those crazy Russians come for Hardison?"

"Hardison's fine," Parker replied, looking at something just over Eliot's right shoulder. "No one's hurt."

"Okay…" Eliot said after waiting for her to elaborate. "So why are you creeping into my bedroom at," he looked at the clock and groaned, "one o'clock in the morning?" Parker shifted from foot to foot, arms wrapped around her torso. Finally she muttered something Eliot couldn't hear.

"What was that, darlin?" he asked, leaning towards her, taking in how she almost looked nervous, which should have been impossible since Parker was obviously an alien that lacked any semblance of human emotions.

"I couldn't sleep, okay?" Parker snapped, glaring at Eliot, her arms tightening around her body.

"And why not?" Eliot asked, knowing that if he waited for her to explain he would die of old age. Parker was silent for a moment, looking over Eliot's shoulder again.

"I miss her," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Sophie?" Eliot clarified. Parker nodded. Eliot sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"We all miss her, darlin," Eliot said, his voice gentle.

"You don't understand," Parker said, her voice empty of any emotion, merely stating a fact.

"Then explain it to me," Eliot replied, rubbing his eyes and shifted into a more comfortable position. It looked like he was going to be here for a while. Parker bit her lip, the first sign of a nervous habit Eliot had ever seen.

"I usually sleep at Sophie's," Parker finally replied, her voice not quite as unattached as usual.

"Why?" Eliot asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Immediately his mind presented him with an assortment of erotic scenes featuring the raven-haired grifter and the blonde thief. He immediately squashed them down, feeling slightly guilty.

"I don't have a house," Parker replied. Eliot did a double take.

"You want to run that by me again, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice leaving no room for argument.

"I don't own any place to sleep," Parker said, shrugging. "I usually slept in the air vents in Sophie's apartment, or in the closet."

"Did Sophie know you were there?" Eliot demanded, even though he knew Sophie would have never allowed Parker to sleep in an air vent or closet.

"Of course not," Parker said, looking at Eliot like he was an idiot. "She would have never let me stay. She would have made me rent an apartment and it would have been a waste of money, because I would have just snuck back in."

"And why was it so important that you slept near Sophie?" Eliot asked, knowing he was going to have to fight his way through Parker logic here.

"She – she – she took care of me, and cared about me, and gave me advice, and worried even when I was breaking into the easiest places ever. She tried to protect me, even though I could wipe the floor with her in a fight. She feels… I don't know, she feels like…" Parker trailed off, obviously not wanting to complete that sentence.

"A mom," Eliot said quietly, finally getting what Parker was getting at. Parker, who had blown up her own father at the tender age of seven, viewed Sophie as something she had never had before: a loving, caring mother.

In a way, Eliot could see where she was coming from. They all saw Sophie as more than just a companion and fellow team member. Nate had that whole unresolved sexual tension thing going on with her, but Eliot, Parker, and he suspect Hardison as well, all viewed Sophie as a mom in one way or another. It hit Parker more strongly, Eliot suspected, because of her horrendous luck with foster parents. She had never had that sweet loving mom to look after her and worry about her. And now Sophie, the closest thing she had ever had to a mother, was gone.

"Why come to me?" Eliot asked, his mental epiphany have only taken a few moments. "Why not go to Hardison, or even Nate?"

"You make me feel safe," Parker said, shifting again and refusing to look Eliot in the eye. "I know that's your job, to be our hitter, but for you it's more than a job. You want to protect us, to keep us safe. Getting to hit people is just an upside." Eliot regarded her for a few moments. It wasn't like Parker to be that perceptive. She usually had about as much insight as a rock.

"So, what do you want from me?" Eliot asked the question without malice or irritation. He knew there was no way he was going to be able to guess what Parker was asking for. Better to just have her say it straight out.

"I just wanted to tell you I was here, so you wouldn't accidently kill me if you found me in the closet," Parker said, turning towards the small door that led to his closet. Eliot stared at her in shock. She was serious. Jumping out of bed, he blocked her way.

"You're not sleeping in my closet," Eliot said firmly, looking at Parker in disbelief. The thief's face fell.

"Do you want me in the vents?" she asked hesitantly. "They're small, but I could probably fit –"

"Parker," Eliot, interrupted, smiling slightly at her. "You're not sleeping in the vents either. You can have the bed. I'll kip on the couch."

"What?" Parker asked, completely stunned, as if she could possibly have heard him right.

"Bed, now," Eliot ordered, pointing his finger sternly at the aforementioned piece of furniture, face leaving not room for argument. Eyeing him cautiously, Parker sat hesitantly on the end of the bed, as if she was afraid it would burn her. Eliot rolled his eyes.

"Get ready to sleep," he instructed, turning and pulling the spare quilt out of the closet. "I'm going to go make up the couch. I'll be right back." With that, Eliot left Parker sitting on the end of his bed, still looking a little shell-shocked.

Throwing the quilt over the couch, he folded it neatly so that it would create a cocoon of sorts. Straightening, he eyed the couch and groaned out loud. There was no way he was going to be able to fit comfortably on it. Deciding that he'd tuck Parker in and read for the rest of the night, Eliot turned to go back to the bedroom. His heart nearly stopped when he found Parker standing right behind him, dressed only in a thin black camisole and small black boyshorts, her hair falling lose around her face.

"You ready to sleep?" Eliot asked when it became clear that Parker wasn't going to say anything. The thief nodded and allowed Eliot to steer her back to the bedroom. Eliot held the covers back, gesturing for her to get in. Parker did so with no resistance.

Looking back, Eliot knew he should have realized she was taking this too calmly. He blamed the late (or early, depending on how you looked at it) hour for his lack of alertness. Before Eliot even knew what was happening, Parker was wrapped around him like a monkey, arms twined around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. It was in that moment that Eliot remembered exactly how little he was wearing.

"Parker, what the hell are you doing?" Eliot asked, trying to pry her off him, but with no success. The girl had a grip like a vise.

"I don't want you to go," Parker said, her voice calm and matter of fact. "The bed's too big, I won't be able to sleep. Please stay with me."

"Uhh…" Eliot said, completely thrown by this turn of events. Parker wasn't a touchy person. The exception was when she was on those happy pills from the rehab center.

"If you don't, I'll go sleep in the closet," Parker said, looking Eliot directly in the eye. Their faces were so close that Eliot could have counted her eyelashes.

_Think of something quick, you fool, or this is going to get very awkward,_ Eliot though furiously to himself as his body began to respond to the fact that there was a scantily clad woman pressed against him who was close enough to kiss.

"Uh, fine, yeah, sure," Eliot said hastily, disentangling himself quickly as Parker let out a small yip of joy. The blonde thief slid easily under the covers, then looked at Eliot expectantly.

_Shit,_ Eliot thought to himself as he lay down next to her. Immediately Parker curled up against his side, throwing one leg over his own while her arm snaked across his bare abdomen, giving him goosebumps.

_Double shit,_ Eliot thought as Parker buried her face in his neck, breath warm against his skin. He could feel all the blood in his body rushing towards his groin as the edge of her breasts brushed against his chest.

"Eliot?" Parker asked sleepily, not raising her head.

"Yeah, darlin?" Eliot replied, trying very hard _not_ to think of the warm body next to his.

"I like you shorts." Eliot felt a small hand innocently brush along the top of said piece of clothing.

Fuck.

This was going to be a long night.

**A/N:** I tried to keep the story platonic, but SOMEONE (cough, Eliot, cough) was horny and wouldn't let me. So please drop me a review to tell me what you thought. With enough encouragement, I may make a sequel. Thanks for reading!


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